With Every Shout, There's A Whisper
by Ketsueki no Kuki
Summary: The Dragonborn may be legendary, but she can't do everything on her own. A group of brave souls will join the fight with her. The Dragoborn isn't alone, and she can't be allowed to take all the glory. SYOC- Submit your OC. (Form inside, bottom of Chapter one)
1. The Beginning

Form is at the bottom! Fill it out and send it via Private Message!

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A carriage pulled by two brown horses moved down the rocky path, following another carriage. Both carried men and women dressed in brown and blue armor. The carriages were guarded by several men dressed in the ever so known Imperial armor. There was only one woman in the second carriage, eyes closed and head bowed, sleeping deeply through the ride. A large bump in the road caused her to jump awake, looking around confused.

She saw the soldiers in their blue armor, and knew instantly where she was. She had been captured by Imperial forces at the border of Skryim. Sighing, she looked to the blonde man across from her, who had noticed her waking.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake." He stated, "You were trying to cross the border, right?" He asked.

The woman took her time to observe him, recognizing the armor he wore was that of the Stormcloaks; an army rebelling against the Empire, before nodding. She had been trying to get into Skyrim, when the Imperial soldiers attacked her, knocking her out and forcing her into the carriage. Now knowing that it was the Stormcloaks she was riding with, she knew what was going to happen.

"Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." The blonde man continued, looking towards the brunette Nord in the rags, sitting next to him.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skryim was fine until you came along. The Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." The thief growled, malice pouring into his tone.

"You there," The thief looked at the woman, "you and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." The woman drew her lips up in a snarl, but didn't respond to him.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, theif." The blonde man told him. One of the Imperial guards shouted for them to be silent, but they ignored him.

"What's wrong with him, huh?" The thief asked, looking towards another blonde man, sitting right next to the woman. She hadn't even noticed him. He was gagged, but his eyes spoke for him. She could see the anger in them, but also the frustration. She knew who he was before the other blonde even spoke his name.

"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!" It was an honor to be in his presence, for she had admired the man since he started the rebellion. If only they weren't about to be sent to their death. She wondered how they were captured. There was an ambush, but it seemed to be too easy for the Empire to catch them. Perhaps the Empire was getting stronger.

"Ulfric, the Jarl of Windhelm?" The thief said it like a question, unbelieving that the man in front of him was really Ulfric Stormcloak. At the mention of her home, the woman felt her heart drop, knowing she might never see it again.

She tuned the talking men out, choosing to lose herself to thoughts of her home. She loved the stone walls of the city, how they separated the damned elves from the rest of the folk, and how close she was to her idol. She was born and raised there, and now she might never be able to go back. Shaking out of her thoughts, she looked around once again. They had arrived.

She had only been to this town once, on a mission to beat up some drunk, but she had seen the chopping block. Everyone piled out of the carriages, an Imperial Legate and another soldier standing in front, facing the line as they called out names. For every name they called, a Stormcloak would walk to stand in front of the chopping block. They called the thief's name. He tried to run, but the archers shot him down. She didn't plan on running anyway.

"You there, step forward." Realizing the command was directed towards her, the woman stepped forth, glaring at the two Imperials.

"Who are you?" The soldier asked.

"Soladat of Windhelm." The woman snarled her answer, hating having to speak to the Imperials. Her eyes were narrowed into a glare, her single dark green eye showing all the hate she had for them, while her left eye, all a milky white, was empty of expression. A scar went through her eyebrow, onto her eye, ending at her cheek; leaving that eye blind. Her pale skin and sandy blonde hair were her defining Nord features. Her the front of her hair was weaved into two separate braids, ending and blending into the rest of her hair behind her ears. Her hair ended at the tops of her shoulders. She had the form of a warrior, skinny but slightly muscular. With high cheekbones and a fine jaw, she looked every bit of a Nord.

The soldier said something to her, something about being a bad time to return to Skyrim, but she ignored him and walked to stand next to the blonde man she had ridden with, Ralof. Soladat watched General Tulius, the worst man in all of Tamriel, talk to Ulfric. She couldn't hear much, only catching something about 'the voice'. Figuring it was just typical Imperial nonsense, she blew it off. If she was going to die, she wanted to get it over with.

The priestess began her preaching, but a Stormcloack soldier interrupted her, heading to the chopping block on his own. Soladat smirked at his bravery, admiring it, but the smirk quickly vanished as she saw his head separate from his body.

"May Talos guide you." She muttered softly, praying for the man.

"Next, the Nord in the rags!" The Legate shouted. A loud roar interrupted. It was a blasting cry that echoed through the sky. No one knew where it came from. The Legit ignored it, once again shouting for Soladat to go to the chopping block. Sighing once more, she slowly moved forward until she was standing right in front of the iron block. She felt the Legate's foot on her back, pushing her down until her neck was at the crescent of the block. She turned her head towards her executioner, glaring him down with her good eye. She refused to close her eyes. It was a good thing she didn't, as another roar had unleashed upon the sky. The roar was followed by a giant, black scaled beast landing atop the tower. Soladat's eyes widened, recognizing the lizard-creature as something from legend. It was a damned dragon. The dragon roared, it's voice pushing the executioner away just as he was about to lower the axe.

"Come on!" A voice shouted, "The gods aren't going to give us another chance!"

Snapping to reality, Soladat stood up; a difficult task with a dead body under you and your hands tied. She saw Ralof beckoning her over, telling her to go into the fort just ten feet away. She followed him, running into the stone tower and slamming the door behind her. Relief overcame her when she saw a group of Stormcloak soldiers taking cover in the building, as well as their leader, Ulfric Stormcloak. She didn't waste time listening to them talking, running up the steps. She barely managed to avoid the dragon bursting his head through the wall. She nearly had a heart attack seeing the creature only a foot away from her. She could feel the heat from his fire breath, but luckily, she hadn't been burned. The dragon pulled away, and flew to some other section of Helgen. She didn't care where the thing went, so long as it was away from her.

"Jump!" Someone shouted at her. She did as she was told, jumping out the hole that the dragon had left, landing in a broken up and burning house. She jumped through the holes of the building, finally landing back on the ground. Without waiting for Ralof, she ran. She ran past the Imperial soldier that asked her who she was, past a child that was about to be killed, only caring to save her own ass.

"Stick to the wall!" Another voice, not Ralof's, shouted. Once again, she did as she was told. Thank Talos she did, as the dragon's wings hit the ground in front of her. If she hadn't stuck to the wall, she'd be injured and hanging from one of the spikes on the dragon's wing. That would be a better way to die than execution, but now that she had the chance to escape death, she wasn't about to let herself die.

"Into the Keep!" Since the random voices shouting at her had helped her so far, she ran into the keep, bursting the door that Ralof stood in front of with her side. Once inside, she felt slightly safer. Ralof followed her in, rushing over to a fallen Stormcloak. He prayed for him, closing his eyes, before standing back up.

"Looks like we're the only ones who made it. That thing was a dragon, just like the children's stories and the legends. The Harbingers of the end time." He shook his head in disbelief, blonde hair flaying with his movement. "Come here, let me get those bindings off."

Trusting a Stormcloak completely, she moved towards him, holding out her bound hands as he took a dagger, carefully cutting through the rope that tied her wrists together. She wondered how he had gotten his own bindings off, but didn't bother questioning him. They had more important things to do, like escape.

"Take Gunjar's gear. He won't be needing it anymore." Nodding, Soladat kneeled down to the fallen soldier, skillfully taking his armor off and removing his war axe. Ralof turned around to give her some privacy as she took off her torn rags, throwing them in the corner. She didn't need them anymore. She pulled on the armor quickly, latching the boots and gauntlets up. They were a little big, but she could still wear them and walk around well. Attaching the war axe to her left hip, she moved towards the closed door.

"Let's get the hell out of here." She spoke, before drawing the axe and slamming it down on the lock. The lock broke and the door opened, allowing the two access to the other side.

"You lead, and I'll follow." Ralof told her, walking right behind her.

They walked through the tunnels, watching out for falling rocks and killing any Imperials in their way. Much to Ralof's displeasure, Soladat would waste time digging through the bodies of the dead, taking their weapons and gold. Her own property had been taken by the Imperials at the ambush. They fought through dozens of Imperials, a group of spiders, and even a bear, looting all the bodies as they did.

Eventually, they found the exit. It was good to see daylight, but Soladat had to admit, it hurt a bit. The bright sunlight was harsh, but much appreciated after wondering through the dark tunnels with only torches to guide them.

Hearing the loud sound of wings flapping against the wind, the two blondes took cover behind a large rock, watching as the big, black dragon flew past them, heading who knows where.

"It should be safe, for now." Soladat said, getting out of cover and watching the creature fly away.

"Aye. Come on, let's head to Riverwood. I have a sister there. We need to warn them of the dragon." Ralof demanded, already heading down the road. Soladat, having nowhere else to go, followed him.

"Have you thought about joining the Stormcloaks?" He asked her as they walked down the dirt road.

"I have." She answered simply, looking straight ahead and refusing to look anywhere else, determined to get to Riverwood.

"So why haven't you?" He asked.

"I don't know." She told him. Ever since she turned eighteen, she was selling herself as a mercenary. She would do bodyguard work, beating or killing nuisances, and just doing whatever she was paid to do. No one ever asked her to join the Stormcloaks, but she knew she could simply go to Ulfric and ask or something. She just… never did. Never had time. "Maybe I will, someday." She added. They remained in silence for the rest of the trip.

They arrived in Riverwood a few minutes later, only covered in ashes and slight scrapes. Nothing serious. Soladat followed her temporary companion to the back of his sister's house. She listened as they talked about the ambush, the Stormcloaks, Ulfric, and the dragon. His sister, Gerder, was kind enough to offer a bed and a warm meal to Soladat. In return, Gerder asked that Soladat head to Whiterun and inform the Jarl of the attack, and ask that he send troops to Riverwood. A bed and a meal for a simple favor? It sounded like a good deal, so Soladat accepted.

"You two go wash up in the lake," Gerder told her, "I'll make supper." The two escapees nodded, before wandering over the edge of the lake, both with a bar of soap in hand that she had given them. Gerder and her son headed inside and her husband followed them, leaving the two alone. It was already getting dark out, leaving Soladat to wonder how long they had been in those tunnels.

Turning away from each other, they disrobed and walked into the water, not once looking at the other. The water was cold, but it felt good. The dirt was already starting to wash away. Soladat rubbed the soap all over, basking in the clean feeling. She could see a bit of dried blood and a bunch of dirt washing away into the water. She couldn't even remember the last time she bathed.

"Haven't even known you for a day, and I'm already naked with you." Ralof joked, still turned away from her to give her privacy. Soladat merely rolled her eyes, before pulling in a breath, and ducking her head under water. After a moment, she popped up and breathed again, finally completely clean.

"Right. Well, I'm out. I'll see you inside?" She asked, stepping back onto land. She picked up a pair of clothes that Gerder had left her, inwardly thinking that the woman was being so kind to a stranger. She pulled the clothes on, happy that she didn't have to put the bloody Stormcloak armor back on.

That night, she went to bed with a full stomach and warm clothes. After nearly being executed by the Empire, then nearly being killed by a dragon, a bath, some food, and some rest was the best thing she could ask for. In the coming morning, she would set off to Whiterun to inform the Jarl of the attack.

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Submit an OC For "For Every Shout, There's A Whisper". Here is the form. Fill it out this form and send it in through PM. If you review it, I won't accept it. But also, have fun with it, kay? FOR COPY AND PASTE- CHECK MY BIO!

*****Only One Submission For Everybody, Unless I Say Say Other Wise*****

General-

Name: (First and Last)

Age: (18-40: For vampires, just pick the age they turned)

Gender:

Race:

Home Country:

Residing in Hold:

Vampire/Werewolf/Normal: (Pick EITHER Vamp OR Werewolf)

Personality:

History: (Also explain how they became a vampire/werewolf if they did. They are allowed

to be in The Companions or the Thieves Guild or the Dark Brotherhood or The College. But only one)

Appearance-

Facial Structure:

Skin Color:

Hair Color:

Hair Style:

Eye Color:

Height:

Build: (Lanky, Muscular, Tiny, Fat, etcetera)

Scars/birthmarks:

Makeup/War paint: (Say 'none' if no makeup or war paint)

Clothes: (just clothes- not armor)

Battle-

Armor: (Any kind. I allow certain mod-armors, if you tell me which one or send a picture)

Weapon: (You can be specific, like 'Iron Dagger', or just say 'Bow and Arrows')

Class: (Rogue, Warrior, Mage)

Job: (Thief, College Mage, Alchemist, Smith, Mercenary, Assassin, etcetera)

Perks: (Alchemy, Marksman, Illusion, Conjuration, Block, etcetera- No more than four)

Other-

Worship: (Deity, Daedric Prince, or Nobody)

What Side Of The War: (Empire, Stormcloaks, or no side)

Likes:

Dislikes

Strengths: (No more than 4)

Weaknesses: (at least 3)

Romance: (Would you like them to find love with another OC?)

Attraction: (If yes to Romance, answer what qualities your character would be attracted to)

Why they joined Soladat: (The OCs are going to join the Dragonborn to travel with her and help slay dragons- this question is optional. If you don't fill it out, I'll make something up.)

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Here's Soladat's form for an example.

Name: Soladat

Age: 28

Gender: Female

Race: Nord

Home Country: Skyrim

Residing in Hold: Windhelm

Vampire/Werewolf/Normal: Normal

Personality: High and Mighty, she acts like she's the best thing in the world. She's an excellent warrior, and she knows it. She used to be a member of the Companions, but she just sort of... left. She hates any kind of elf with a fiery passion, but likes all other races. She takes pride in her own race and her home. She hates backing down from a fight, but if she feels she's losing, she'll pull out what little healing magic she knows and try to escape. She's very arrogant, and doesn't like talking, she likes to listen to people talk, though.

History: The Thalmore killed her older sister, Sareli. She wasn't old enough to know why they killed her, but she hated them for it either way. Her mother was a Mage, and was trying to teach a fire spell to Soladat. When her parents had gone to bed, Soladat tried practicing her magic. She caught the house on fire quickly, and her parents couldn't escape. She refuses to use destruction magic now.  
She lost sight in her right eye against a fight with a pack of sabers, that was when Vilkas and Aela arrived. They helped her kill the horde, and offered her a place in the Companions. Before, she had been wondering Skyrim, working as a Mercenary. She joined the Companions, taking a quick liking to them. A year later, she left and returned to working as a mercenary.

Appearance-

Facial Structure: High cheekbones and defined jaw

Skin Color: Pale white

Hair Color: Sandy Blonde

Hair Style: Front pulled back in braids, ending at the back of her ears to blend in to the rest of her hair

Eye Color: Dark green right eye, blind white left eye.

Height: 5'10

Build: Thin, but muscular.

Scars/birthmarks: Scar starting at her left eyebrow, going onto her blind eye and ending at her cheekbone

Makeup/War paint: dark red eyeliner and faded eye shadow, red lips.

Clothes: Gray commoner dress with blue over-apron and knee high, tan boots

Battle-

Armor: Daedric Assassin Armor

Weapon: Daedric Greatsword

Class: Warrior

Job: Smith

Perks: Smithing, Two handed, Enchanting

Other-

Worship: Talos

What Side Of The War: Stormcloaks

Likes: Smithing swords, listening to people, and reading books on daedra.  
Dislikes: Magic, Elves, and heat.

Strengths: She's great with smithing- she can make nearly anything. Not a bad enchanter, but can only do fire and ice enchantments on weapons, and health enchantments on armor.

Weaknesses: magic, sneaking, lockpicking

Romance: Yes

Attraction: Argonian and Nord males. For the Nords- she prefers little-to-no beard. No particular preferences for the Argonians. She likes people who could hold an argument with her, not a total pushover.


	2. The Dragonborn Comes

Super special thanks to Death's General for all his help! Everyone, criticize this as much as you want! I can use your help.

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Soladat woke up just before the sun rose. She gathered her armor and loot, being careful not to wake Ralof's sister or her family. She placed a few gold on the table, as thanks for feeding her and giving her a place to rest. She left the clothes that Gerdur lent her on the bed, folded neatly with a note resting on top, telling the family that she was leaving to Whiterun, and that she will let the Jarl know of the dragon attack as soon as she gets there. She left the house, closing the door as quietly as she could.

The sun was barely peeking over the mountains, signaling that it was around six or so in the morning, and that everyone would wake soon. There were a few folk already out and about, beginning their morning work. She didn't want to waste time with idle chit chat, so she left quickly. The road to Whiterun wasn't long, only an hour, but there were a few wolves to fight. Nothing she couldn't handle. Walking out of the mountainous path, she could finally see the walls of the great city, standing high. Once she told the Jarl of the dragon, she fully planed on getting some materials and crafting a better set of armor. The Stormcloak armor she currently adorned was rusty, covered in blood, and didn't fit perfectly, as armor should. It was only one step up from the rags she had been wearing the day previous.

Hearing a loud battle cry, Soladat's head snapped up, searching for where the sound came from. She knew there'd be a fight somewhere, and fights meant dead bodies, which meant loot. Loot can be sold for gold, and gold can be used for smithing materials. Rushing down the path, the feel of the cold wind brushing her face, she pulled her war axe out. She came up to a small farm, seeing a group of people fighting a Giant. She wasn't close enough to hit the thing directly, so she did only what she could, knowing that if she didn't land at least one hit, the group would keep her from looting the creature. She threw her axe at the Giant. Surprise filled her when she saw that the weapon actually hit the over sized humanoid, and right in the forehead. She certainly wasn't expecting that. Counting it as Talos helping her, she watched as the Giant toppled over, falling to the ground and making aloud 'thump!' as it landed.

She walked down to the farm, climbing over the fence with ease. She wondered how the farmers though they could keep anything out of their area with such a small fence. She could feel eyes staring at her, but she ignored them, heading straight to the Giant. Grabbing the axe that was buried in its head, she pulled it out easily, wiping the blood off on her armor, before attaching it back to her waist. The Giant had no loot she could sell, only its own toe, but that wouldn't sell for much, and she wasn't a trained alchemist. Sighing in disappointment, she turned from her latest kill.

"Soladat," A familiar voice called her name, catching her attention. She faced the woman who spoke her name. Dread instantly filled her when she saw the woman, an old friend. The long brown hair and glaring mud brown eyes, and the face cloaked in war paint was not a welcome sight.

"What are you doing here?" Aela asked, surprise showing in her light tone. Looking around, Soladat found two other faces she recognized; Farkas and Ria. It appeared the Companions were asked to defeat the Giant.

"Saving your ass. What does it look like?" Soladat asked rhetorically, sarcasm lacing her tone. Aela shook her head at the woman's typical behavior.

"I'd ask you where you've been, but I know you wouldn't answer." Aela snapped at her. Farkas put a hand on the archer's shoulder, stepping forth to look Soladat dead in the eye.

"Kodlak will be happy to see you." He said.

"I wasn't planning on visiting Jorrvaskr." She replied sternly, sheathing her weapon and walking away, trying to end the conversation at that. Farkas wouldn't have it. He put a hand on her shoulder, using his strength to stop her and turn her around to face him. She raised her lip in a snarl, eyes narrowing into a glare. She hated it when he used his strength against her. As much as she hated to admit it, he was much stronger than her. She could still beat him in a fight with a weapon, of course, but not a wrestling match. Not that she was planning to wrestle the man, or anyone, for that matter, any time soon.

"We've got some new members. You should at least meet them." He looked down at her with those big, brown eyes, giving her the 'puppy dog eyes' as his brother, Vilkas, called them. Soladat was immune to them, and simply removed his hand from her shoulder, turned around, and walked away. She didn't say yes, but she didn't say no. As she walked up to the gate of Whiterun, she could hear his voice call out behind her.

"Once a Companion, always a Companion!" Farkas had shouted, but she hadn't looked back. She had something to do, and once that was done, she'd be on her merry way to Windhelm. She might even join the Stormcloaks, help fight the damned Empire.

A guard stopped her at the gate, demanding to know what business she had there. She told him that she brought word of the dragon from Helgen, leaving out the part where she was about to have her head cut off. He understood the urgency of the situation, and opened the gate for her to go in. He didn't seem to have recognized her as a former Companion, but that was okay. She didn't consider herself one anymore. She wondered how Aela even considered her a Companion. Once Soladat turned down the blood of the werewolf, Aela had become distant with her, just as Skjor had. Farkas and Vilkas still treated her kindly, telling her she made the right choice, that the blood of the wolf was a curse and not a blessing. She didn't leave because of this. That would have been petty. She left because she needed a change of scenery, needed to be able to actually fight to kill. The only killing the Companions did was beasts and the Silver hand. Soladat needed a challenge, and she wasn't going to find that in Whiterun.

Thinking back on the past, she sighed, only giving Jorrvaskr a single glance as she walked past, heading up the stairs to Dragon's Reach. As soon as she stood next to the fire in the middle of the Jarl's main room, a dark elf approached, its weapon drawn. The thing was nothing but dark. Black eyes, gray skin, black hair. It wore leather armor, and looked hideously crafted. It was glaring at her, as though it had the right.

Soladat's hand reached for her own weapon, eyes narrowing at the woman. She tilted her head to look at it with her good eye, watching for any more hostile movements.

"Halt!" It shouted, "Who are you to approach a Jarl?" This thing must be the Jarl's house-carl. Soladat found herself disgusted at the thought of a dark elf holding such a high place in society. Biting her tongue, Soladat knew she had to get through it, in order to bring the news to the Jarl.

"I bring news of the dragon attack on Helgen." She said through her teeth, trying her hardest not to hiss at the thing.

"Well, that explains why the guards let you in. Come now, the Jarl must hear this at once." It demanded, heading up the steps to the Jarl.

Soladat walked forth, standing just in front of the fire, facing the Jarl of Whiterun. His steward stood on his left, the thing that was his house-carl on his right, and male nord standing next to it. She didn't spare any of them much thought, focusing only on the Jarl.

"What's this I hear about dragons?" The Jarl asked her, moving his attention from his house-carl to Soladat.

"A dragon attacked Helgen. I was there when it happened, the imperials were about to execute Ulfric Stormcloak. I was sent by a woman in Riverwood, Gerdur, to tell you of the attack." Soladat informed him, hoping to hurry the conversation up so she could get out of there. The gods-forsaken elf was staring at her. She didn't want to be anywhere near the thing, least she be tempted to draw her blade. She didn't feel like spending a few nights in jail for killing a house-carl, and she didn't have the money to bail herself out.

"A dragon? By the gods, you must be joking." Soladat stared dead and hard at the man. She wasn't one to joke. She never looked like she was joking.

"You're not joking." He realized, sitting back in shock, thinking of how to handle the situation.

"We must send reinforcements to Riverwood at once! Ireleth, assemble a squad of guards to head out immediately." The jarl ordered his house-carl. The house-carl resisted, telling him that sending troops to Riverwood might invoke the imperials to thinking Whiterun was siding with the Stormcloaks. The Jarl told her that he wasn't about to let his people be slaughtered.

A guard came rushing in, looking panicked. His armor looked severely burnt, and he didn't seem to have a care as he rushed towards the Jarl, completely ignoring the fact that they were in the middle of an important conversation.

"Jarl Bulgruff, I bring important news!" The guard shouted, practically in hysterics.

"What is it?" The Jarl didn't seem to mind that the guard interrupted them. He seemed more concerned about what could possibly be making the guard so terrified.

"A dragon has attacked the western watch tower!" He cried.

"By the gods, they're really back. The creatures of legends have returned." The Jarl muttered, burying his face in his hand. After a short moment, he looked to his second house-carl, the nord.

"Krios, go take a group of troops down the western watch tower. Get rid of that damn dragon!" The nord, Krios, nodded and took off running. Soladat watched him enviously, not because he got to fight a dragon, but because his armor looked so new. It was shiny steel armor, so clean it was like it had never seen a fight. It'd do him some good to have that new armor up against a dragon. Well, now that she was done delivering the message to the Jarl of the dragon, her job was done. She knew Euorlund Gray-mane would let her use the Skyforge, but she'd have to sneak past the Companions, least they force her into Jorrvaskr and make her stay. There was also a forge down near the gate, but it just didn't feel like the Skyforge did. She could still work with it, though. Or wait until night to go up and use the Skyforge while the Companions were all drinking or sleeping.

"You," Snapping out of her thoughts as she felt the Jarls attention turn towards her, she looked at him to see he was staring directly at her with _that look. _The look that meant he was going to ask her for a favor. She had received that look so many times before. She repressed a groan, knowing she would have to accept whatever favor he was going to ask her. It meant coin, and she only had a few gold from looting all those imperials back in Helgen.

"You've done so much for my people, please, take this gift from my personal armory as a sign of my gratitude." He handed the elf something, some kind of armor, and the elf walked up to Soladat, holding the item out to her. She was inwardly disgusted that the elf had touched her gift, but didn't show her repulsion. She took it from the thing, waiting until it moved back over to the Jarl before holding it up and looking at it. It was steel armor, just like the armor the nord from before was wearing. It was new, but the crafting could have been better- the weight was off, weighing about five pounds less than it should have, and the steel was forged too thin, but it was like looking at heaven compared to the Stormcloak cuirass she wore.

"However, I ask for one more thing. You have proven your strength when you escaped from Helgen, I ask you join Krios and the Guards to fight the dragon. I promise you will be heavily awarded." With an offer of a reward, she could hardly refuse. Soladat merely nodded, giving the dark elf one last glare, before turning and setting off, running out of Dragon's Reach. She realized the matter was drastic, and it required the utmost urgency, but she had to change. Walking behind a house, right near the walls of the city, she quickly disrobed her Stormcloak cuirass, pulling the new steel armor on. She had to keep the boots she looted from the dead soldier, but that was okay. They weren't in that bad of condition.

After dressing in her new armor, basking in the extra protection and slightly heavier weight, she ran as fast as she could to the gate of Whiterun, trying to make up for lost time, ignoring the cries of people she nearly knocked over. They'd be fine. Right in front of the gate was the man she had seen before; the one with the beautiful steel armor.

His features were a bit softer than most nords, and his messy hair was pitch black, ending right at his shoulders. Though these were a bit unusual for a nord, his muscular build and towering height showed his true race. Deep blue eyes shined with determination as he gave a pep talk to the small group of guards that had gathered. Soladat wondered how a group this small was expected to take down a dragon. If the dragon was anything like the one at Helgen, which couldn't even be taken down by hundreds of imperials and a few dozen Stormcloaks, they were doomed. The only reason she was tagging along was not only to fight one of the most powerful creatures ever to exist, but also to loot the bodies of the guards that were sure to die. She had to make sure she didn't end up with the corpses she planned on looting.

"You call yourselves nords!?" Krios cried out to one of the guards, who had been doubting that they could actually kill a dragon.

"Are you too weak to fight for your land? Too weak to protect the ones you love?" He shouted at them. Soladat watched with interest.

"No." He told them, answering his own question for them, "You are nords. You fight for yourselves, for your family, for your country!" A series of 'yeah's were heard as the guards started to perk up. The pep talk was clearly working. While Soladat admired his words, there was a dragon out there. Every second he spent talking, was a second they could have used to take down the dragon.

Finally, the group set out, heading towards the Western Watch Tower, where the one guard had reported the dragon attack. As soon as they were out the entrance of Whiterun, Soladat could smell something burning. Looking out to where the watch tower was, she saw it was falling apart and unleashing smoke into the air. Krios lead the group to the tower, running as fast as they could to try and get there before any more damage was done. She could already tell she was going to be exhausted from all the running by the end of the day.

While the guards and Krios stopped behind a fallen part of the watch tower to discuss a plan, Soladat rushed towards the entrance, walking up to the inside of the tower. Another guard approached her, crouching down and looking like he had just been to Oblivion and back. His helmet was off, something rare for a guard, and he told her to keep down, that the dragon would return soon. Just as he said that, a loud roar was heard. The dragon had surely returned.

With only a simple battle axe, she knew she wouldn't be able to do much to a flying dragon. She'd have to wait for the beast to land, or…

With a plan devised, she drew her axe and hurried inside the tower, going as fast as she could up the steps. She heard the distant voice of someone asking what she was thinking, but she ignored it. She had to hurry if she wanted her plan to fall through. Reaching the top of the tower, she saw the golden-brown dragon soaring through the sky, heading straight towards her. Her heart started to beat rapidly with excitement, a grin coming to her face as she ran towards the ledge. The dragon grew closer. It didn't seem to see her, focusing instead on the guards on the ground. It was perfect.

Just as his left wing scraped across the watch tower, she ran off the ledge, jumping onto the lizard-creatures back in a fit of luck. The second she was on, she grabbed a tight hold of one of the spikes on its back. The creature hadn't noticed her yet, but she knew he would in just a second. She slammed her axe down onto the dragon's right wing, pulling it down with all the force she could muster. It was then that the dragon noticed the nord on its back. It cried out in pain, before flying straight up. Soladat lost her grip on the dragon's spike, switching to hold onto her axe. The axe started to pull down at her weight, quickly falling down the height of the wing until it reached the very end. Realizing what was going to happen, Soladat looked down to the ground.

'_Talos, save me!'_ She thought with a growl as the axe cut fell out from the dragon's wing, taking her with it. She prepared for her body to meet the ground, ready for a bone or few to be broken. It was all worth it, though. To Oblivion if that wasn't the most fun she's had in years. But her body never met the ground. Instead of the sensation of bones breaking and bruises forming, she simply felt a massive tugging on her right arm. She opened her eye, not even having noticed she closed them as she fell, and saw that she was dangling about forty feet above the ground. Looking up to see what held her in that position, she saw Krios, gripping her arm with one of his. He used his strength to pull her up to the top of the watch tower, right back where she started. He looked at her, amazed that she would do something so stupid and reckless, but wiped his amazement off his face as he saw the dragon falling.

Unfortunately, the dragon managed to land on its legs, but it didn't seem to be able to fly. Now if only Soladat had her axe. The weapon had fallen to the ground, somewhere. She didn't have time to try and find it. Krios seemed to realize this, as he went over to the body of a dead guard, pushing the corpse onto its back and taking the sword that the guard had been laying on, handing her the sword. Taking it with gratitude, the two warriors sprinted down to the ground; this time, heading down the stairs, rather than simply jumping off.

The dragon's roars could be heard, loud and clear, as he breathed a bout of fire straight at the two, who had just existed the fallen tower. They managed to dodge, but only barely, as Soladat could feel her bare arm doused in the heat. Her adrenaline caused her to ignore the pain of her now burnt forearm, and she was lucky the thing hit her left arm, and not her right, which she wielded the sword with. All the guards had switched from using their bows, to pulling out their swords and shields, attacking the now grounded creature. Soladat and Krios joined them, running up to it and slamming and slashing their weapons at it, all the while trying to avoid being blasted by the beast's fire. Seeing it slowly loose strength as it lost blood, Soladat walked over the dragon's face, holding her sword up above her head with one hand. She grinned, and slammed the sword down into the dragon's head with all her might, basking in the blood that splattered and the cry the dragon made as it died.

The blade was too deep to get out of the dragon's skull, so that was another weapon she had lost to the flying lizard. Having given up on trying to take the blade out, Soladat stepped back from the now dead creature to admire her work. She had just delivered the final blow to a creature once thought extinct. She had every right to be proud of herself. As she stared at the dragon, she noticed something. The dragon began to… dissolve. It turned into some kind of golden orange aura. Her eyes widened as her one good eye saw the aura head towards her, but before she could escape from it, whatever it was, the thing crashed into her. Her heartbeat sped up as she held her breath, expecting pain. There was no pain, just a sense of warmth spreading throughout her bones. She had expecting the aura to be malicious, being from the dragon and all, but it was anything but. The aura was actually welcoming, so to speak. It didn't feel ecstatic, necessarily, but it didn't hurt at all. She should have been a bit more surprised about the aura, but she _had _just killed a dragon, a species that wasn't even supposed to exist. It was still abnormal to her, though. She saw a guard looking at her like she was Talos himself, and figured he might have an idea of what the aura was.

"I can't believe it. You're… dragonborn." The guard said, amazed. Soladat had heard the story of the dragonborn before, her father had loved to tell it when she was child. Her mother, though, thought that she had been too young to hear tales of dragons and killings. She understood the basics of the tale; a man with the blood of the dragon in him, who killed dragons and stole their souls. It was just a legend. She hadn't a clue how the guard believed she was dragonborn. She had slain a dragon, but she was quite sure she didn't have any dragon blood in her.

"What do you mean?" Soladat asked the guard, thinking he meant something else.

"In the very oldest tales, back from when there were still dragons in Skyrim, the dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power." The guard informed her of what she already knew. She was much too tired to interrupt the guard, tell him this was something she had already heard of, and to cut to the chase.

"That's what you did, isn't it? Absorb the dragon's power?" He seemed to be talking about the aura that flowed into her. Despite knowing it was utter nonsense, she couldn't help but believe in what the man was saying. There was no other explanation for how the dragon dissolved into mere bones, and none of the guards knew any magic, so the aura didn't have another explanation, either.

"The only way to truly know, is to Shout." He told her. Raising the eyebrow above her good eye, she looked at him, confused.

"How in Oblivion is shouting going to help?" She asked him. He looked at her with a frown, "Don't you know the old legends? Only the dragonborn can Shout without training, the way the dragons do."

She suddenly remembered that word she had seen in Bleakfalls Barrow. She had been sent there a year ago, long before the Empire captured her, sent by the court mage of Markarth. She was retrieving some stone, a Dragon Stone, for the mage to study. Right where she had gotten the stone, a large wall seemed to be beckoning her over. She walked over to the wall, a mysterious language carved into it, with symbols she had never seen before. One of the words had spoken to her, in a way. It glowed, and her eye was then covered in a bright blue light. She faintly heard chanting, and it was almost as though the word had carved itself into her mind. Though it was a foreign language, she somehow knew what it meant.

'_Force.'_

It had echoed through her mind when she had first seen that foreign word.

"_FUS_!" Her mouth seemed to open on its own, and a large spring of power spilled from it. The Shout pushed the guards back, making the stumble, and interrupting their conversation about dragons and the dragonborn. The feeling of the power that escaped her left her breathless, like all the oxygen she had sucked in that day was suddenly pushed out of her in one big blast, making her throat feel raw.

"Krios, you've been awfully quiet, what do you think about all this dragonborn business?" One of the guards asked the Jarls house-carl, who had watched in utter amazement as Soladat released the Shout.

"I think the dragons are returning," He told the group, "and that can't be a good thing. Come, we must tell Jarl Bulgruff that the dragon is dead, but that it was, indeed, a dragon." The guards agreed, and started to head back to the city, leaving the dragon's bones just sitting there. Only Krios and Soladat remained, the woman looking at the dragon. Though most of the dragon has dissolved, there were a few large scales laying on the ground, as well as some gold. She wondered how the gold had gotten into the dragon. Maybe he ate it, or ate people that were holding onto the gold? It didn't matter, because now she had three hundred gold. She also managed to take some of the dragon's scales and bones, figuring she could sell them for a decent price, and maybe buy some ingots to craft some new armor. The steel armor the jarl gave her was nice enough, but it just wasn't good enough. Stuffing her new loot in her pack, she started to head off, back to the city. Krios walked right next to her the whole way, looking just as worn out as she was.

The guards at the gate looked the Soladat like she, herself, was a legend. The ones that helped kill the dragon must have been spreading the word that they believed she was the dragonborn. She didn't really believe it, but nothing was making sense right now.

"_DOV AH KIIN!"_ The roar through the sky started both Soladat and Krios. They looked to the clouds, half expecting there to be a dragon. The roar sounded just like the Shout she had released earlier, but it sounded… louder, more powerful, somehow. Not having seen another dragon flying above the city, Soladat looked to the house-carl. He looked very determined, and told her they needed to hurry to let Jarl Bulgruff know the city was safe, for now.

She only wanted to get her reward. Then, she planned on getting a room at the inn. In the morning, she would ask to use the forge at War Maidens and craft a new set of armor, and maybe a new greatsword. Her old one had been taken when the imperials captured her. Then she'd be gone, off to Windhelm to join the Stormcloaks, as such was where she should be. Her original plans of sneaking over to the Skyforge in the middle of the night had been ruined by her soreness, and she was too tired to even think of staying awake until all the Companions were either sleeping, or out drinking.

They stayed in silence, walking past the markets and up into the Cloud District. Soladat caught a glimpse of Skjor standing up at the entrance to Jorrvaskr, staring down at her. He looked disappointed at her, but she already knew that. Ever since she had denied the blood of the wolf, Skjor had been upset with her. He thought it was wrong to deny such a great gift, but she wanted no part of it. Vilkas and Farkas had been glad she turned it down. In their eyes, the wolf blood was a curse.

Pushing the old memories away, Soladat turned her attention Dragons Reach, pushing the door open and walking in, Krios following right next to her still. They both walked past the fire, the orange light glowing around them as they walked up to the Jarl. He was having a conversation with his brother, but that didn't bother Soladat, as she walked straight up to him, interrupting their conversation.

"We were just talking about you. My brother needs a word with you." Hrongar said, as he stepped out her way, so she could talk to the Jarl.

"So what happened at the watchtower? Was the dragon there?" Jarl Bulgruff asked.

"Aye. The watchtower had been destroyed, but the dragon was there. We managed to kill the beast." Soladat answered him. Krios, standing right by her side, nodded in confirmation of what she said.

"I knew I could count on Krios. But there must be more to it than that." He said. She didn't know how he knew that. Maybe one of the guards told him about their 'dragonborn' theory.

"The guards seem to believe I am 'dragonborn'. When the dragon died, it dissolved and I absorbed some kind of power from it." She told him. Once again, Krios nodded, confirming that was she said was, indeed, true. Jarl Bulgruff looked amazed, but not exactly shocked.

"So it's true. The Greybeards really were summoning you." He said. Soladat looked at him confused.

"Why would they be summoning me?" She asked, having heard once that the Greybeards lived in seclusion, high on the slopes of the Throat of the World; the highest mountain in all of Tamriel.

"The dragonborn is said to be uniquely gifted in the way of the Voice, the ability to focus your vital essence into a Thu'um, or Shout." The Jarl explained, "If you really are dragonborn, they can teach you how to use your gift."

Hrongar stepped up to look at her, "Didn't you hear the thundering sound as you returned to Whiterun?" He asked. She nodded at him, the motion sending pain through her sore neck. So that was what that sound was when they returned to Dragon's Reach. She was just relieved it wasn't another dragon, but had no idea how Hrongar could have known it was the Greybeards.

"That was the voice of the Greybeards, summoning you to High Hrothgar. This hasn't happened in… centuries, at least. Not since Tiber Septim himself was summoned when he was still Talos of Atmora!" He exclaimed, clearly becoming excited. His face was alight with wonder as he stared at her, already knowing in his heart that she was dragonborn.

"Hrognar, calm yourself. What does any of this nord nonsense have to with our friend here?" The steward, Proventus Avenicii, spoke up.

"You dare to insult our beliefs, you puffed-up, ignorant, imperial bastard!?" Soladat growled at the steward, offended by his words. Luckily, she was saved from being scolded by the Jarl when Hrongar spoke.

"These are our sacred traditions that go back to the founding of the First Empire!" He snapped at the imperial, feeling just as offended as Soladat. The steward didn't even look the slightest bit apologetic, nor did he look fearful of the two angry nords.

"Hrongar, don't be so hard on Avenicii." The Jarl scolded his brother.

"I meant no disrespect, of course." Soladat scoffed at this, getting a warning glance from Krios, but the steward ignored her, "It's just that… what do these Greybeards want with her?" Proventus asked.

"That's the Greybeard's business, not ours." Jarl Bulgruff told him, shutting the imperial up. The Jarl moved his gaze form his steward to Soladat.

"Whatever happened when you killed that dragon, revealed something in you, and the Greybeards heard it. You'd better get up to High Hrothgar immediately. There's no refusing the summons of the Greybeards. It's a tremendous honor." He looked at her, a fire glowing in his eyes as he seemed to be lost in a fond memory. He even smiled, the first time she had seen him do so. Such warm made her wonder what he was remembering, but it was none of her business.

"You've done a great service for me and my city, dragonborn. By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It is the greatest honor that's within my power to grant. Please, accept this weapon from my armory to serve as your badge of office, also, I assign you Lydia, as a personal house-carl." He told her, handing her a war axe. It shined in the light of the fire, light glistening off of the steel. While she didn't particularly care for one handed weapons, she took the war axe politely. It was well crafted and looked as though it had never been used. Though she might never use the thing, she could certainly sell it for a good bit of gold.

"My Jarl, if it is alright with you, I would like to be assigned as the dragonborn's house-carl." The Jarl was interrupted by Krios, whom had remained silent since they walked into Dragon's Reach. Jarl Bulgruff looked at him, surprised that his own house-carl, his most loyal one, would seek to serve the dragonborn. He supposed it was natural, of course. Krios was a nord, though he didn't always act like one, and traveling with the dragonborn could only mean adventure. Jarl Bulgruff was slightly proud of Krios. He had practically raised the boy, but he rarely asked for anything.

"I'm surprised, Krios. But of course, I understand. I will reassign Lydia." Krios nodded, his way of showing how grateful he was. The Jarl knew that the adventure would be good for the lad, as he had never left Whiterun. The furthest he had gone, was just past the farms to take down some bandits when the Companions were busy.

"I'll also notify my guards of your new title. Wouldn't want them to think you're part of the common rabble. We are honored to have you as Thane of our city, dragonborn." Sensing the end of the conversation, Soladat let out a relived sigh. Her body ached and her arm burned. The adrenaline that had been keeping the pain at bay had vanished the second the fight was over, and she had just been bearing with it as the Jarl continued on and on. Now, though, she could head to the Bannered Mare, pour some alcohol on it, wrap the burn up, and go to bed. She turned away from the Jarl, already heading towards the door. Krios was quick to catch up to her. He realized it had been a long day, so he settled for walking and talking.

"I have not formally introduced myself, my Thane." He started, easily keeping up with her pace as they both strutted out the doors of the castle.

"I am Krios Blackmane, your new house-carl." He introduced himself.

"Address me as Soladat. Not 'Thane'." She demanded, walking down the dozen steps of Dragon's Reach, heading into the cloud district. Not much further until they arrived at the Bannered Mare. She just hoped they wouldn't happen across another Companion.

"Understood. What will you have of me, then?" He asked. She sighed once again, wondering how in Oblivion she was supposed answer that.

"Do what you want. You may accompany me to High Hrothgar, but tonight, I am staying in a room at the Bannered Mare." Her tone was stern as she stopped in her tracks to face him, look at him with her good eye. They were right in front of the Bannered Mare, now.

"Very well. I'll head home and return in the morning. Good night, my Thane." And with that, the house-carl left. Soladat turned back towards the door of the inn, hand gripping the doorknob and pushing it open. She immediately felt the warmth of the fire as soon as she walked in. The sound of the customers happily chatting and drinking was soothing to her ears, almost putting a smile on her face. But she was too tired, in too much pain to smile. She walked over to the bar, the old wooden floors creaking as she stepped on them. Hulda grinned at her, already pulling out a bottle of nord Mead and setting it on the counter.

Soladat pulled out a pouch, the money in it making a slight clinking sound, and handed it to the barmaid.

"Give me another Mead and a room." She told Hulda, who nodded and pulled out another bottle. She took the gold that was handed to her, counting exactly twenty gold. Smiling, Hulda grabbed the two bottles of Mead, "Follow me to your room." She said, walking out from the counter.

Soladat nodded, following the barmaid to what appeared to be the only unoccupied room, as all the others had their doors closed. She was just glad there was a room available.

"Here you are," Hulda said, setting the two nord Meads on the table next to the bed, "You have the room until morning, and the clothes in the cabinet are yours. Let me know if you need anything else." She smiled brightly, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. The door did nothing to silence the chatter in the main room, but that didn't bother Soladat. The sound of glasses tapping together in a toast, the slight murmuring of people talking to one another, the occasional laugh, and the crackling of the fire was all very soothing. She hadn't been in Whiterun since she left the Companions. She headed straight to Riften to sell her trade as a mercenary. The Jarl paid her well to take care of bandits, wondering giants, and even a few necromancers. She received about the same amount of gold from Jarl Laila Law-Giver as she did doing jobs for the Companions, but most of that gold went to purchasing Honeyside Manor. It was cheaper to buy a house in Riften than it was to pay ten gold a day to keep a room at the Bee and the Barb.

Sighing once again, she began to take off her armor. It felt good to not have that awkward weight on her, and she couldn't wait to sell the steel armor and smith herself something new in the morning, preferably something that covered her arms, so she wouldn't get burned as bad. Taking the seat next to the wooden table, Soladat looked at her left forearm.

She saw that the layers of skin and muscle were peeling away in revulsion from the dragon's flames. The smell of dried blood and burnt flesh was familiar to her, and she had gotten so used to the overpowering scent that it no longer caused her stomach to reel, as it had when she was a child. She had been burned many times, none so severely as this, but mostly by magic fire. Her mother was a well-known mage, and had been trying to teach Soladat some basic destruction magic. Soladat took after her father, a trained warrior, and was found to be rather weak when it came to magic. She had still tried, seeking to be like her older sister had been. One night, a week or so after her mother had introduced her to a fire bolt spell, despite her being only a novice, Soladat wanted to impress her mother, so she was practicing the fire bolt spell while her parents slept.

Refusing to go any further into those memories, Soladat popped the top to the bottle of Mead, pouring it over her burn without a second thought. It stung, as was expected, but it didn't bother her. She knew the alcohol was helping the burn and would disinfect it, so she pushed the pain that came with it to the back of her mind, simply watching as the liquid poured over the red flesh. When the bottle was empty, most of it either on her arm or on the floor, she set it back down on the table. She picked up the white cloth, wrapping it around the wound and doing her best with just the one arm and her mouth to tie it tightly. With the burn treated, she grabbed the second bottle of Mead and opened it up, holding the bottle to her lips as she pulled her head back and chugged the drink down. The strong taste of honey and mint felt good going down her throat, the sting of the alcohol making it all the better. She downed the bottle in a minute, setting it back onto the table.

She stood from the chair, walking over to the bed and pulling back the cloth sheets. She was damn tired, and now that she had a drink and wrapped up her wound, she could finally get a good night's rest. Laying her head on the straw pillow, she quickly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Waking up the next morning, she saw the sun had just risen. She wasn't one to procrastinate, hurriedly standing up from the bed and walking to the cabinet, the wooden floor cold under her feet. She opened the cabinet, seeing a pair of tan colored boots and a pair of merchant's clothes. She pulled the blue dress on over her head, falling to her ankles with the sleeves going down to her wrists. A black blacksmith's apron went over the dress, straps going over her shoulders and ending down at her waist, where it connected to a matching belt that latched in the front. After pulling on her boots, she fidgeted with her sleeves and smoothed out the skirt of the dress. She didn't particularly care for clothes, as they didn't offer any protection, but she had to sell her armor and create a new set. Her amulet of Talos, resting just above her clothes, made her feel reassured.

"Hey, you!" A nord woman called out to her, strutting up to Soladat, who looked at the woman, annoyed. She was a bit shorter than most nords, standing at five feet and seven inches. The tops of her reddish-brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, the sides tightly braided, as the rest fell to her shoulders. Her hazel eyes were accented by charcoal eyeliner and dusty brown eye shadow. Though she wore a full set of Glass Armor, including gauntlets and boots, she didn't look very intimidating.

"You're the dragonborn, right?" The woman asked her.

"Get out of my way." Soladat demanded, ignoring the question. When the woman didn't remove herself from Soladat's path, the taller nord simply pushed her out of the way with ease.

"H-Hey! I'm coming with you!" The woman told her, following Soladat as she walked out of the Bannered Mare.

"No, you're not." Soladat said, not even glancing at the insisting woman, instead heading towards Adrianne's forge. The woman tried to step in front of Soladat, but Soladat would just push to the side again.

"I have to come with you! You're dragonborn, and wherever you go, there's bound to be adventure." The woman exclaimed, still walking right next to Soladat. She seemed to refuse to give up, absolutely determined to pester the taller woman.

"Soladat," Adrianne spoke, seeing the blonde walking towards her, "It's good to see you again, friend. I assume you're here to use the forge?" Soladat nodded, offering a small smile to the blacksmith.

"Help yourself. The materials you kept here are still in the chest. I've made sure no one touches them." Adrianne told her, gesturing to a large wooden chest just behind the store. Adrianne had been kind enough to allow Soladat to keep some of her supplies here, just in case.

"Thanks." Soladat said, watching as the blacksmith smiled, before heading back into the War Maiden.

"Hey, don't ignore me!" The pestering woman seethed. Soladat, despite what the woman demanded, continued to ignore her. She walked over to the chest, unlocking it and pulling out nine orichalcum ingots, three iron ingots, and a large handful of leather strips. She had saved this in here for making some orcish armor. Though she didn't much like the beast race, she could admire their armor. It was strong and could handle a hard hit.

"Fine then, I'll just follow you wherever you go." Sighing loudly, she realized the pest was not planning on leaving.

"I'm going to High Hrothgar. There's seven thousand steps, and probably only a few trolls. It's not much of an adventure." Soladat told her. The woman grinned cheekily.

"Never fought a troll before. That's certainly an adventure. I'm coming with you. When are we setting off?" She had apparently already decided that she was tagging along, no matter what Soladat had to say about it.

"Stop pestering me. I already have someone coming along with me." Soladat told her, already starting on crafting the boots to her armor. The redhead would have nothing of it.

"The more the merrier." She said, leaning against the side of War Maiden. After a moment, where the only sound was from the forge as Soladat continued crafting her boots, Soladat spoke.

"Fine. You can tag along, but don't blame me if you become injured." The taller nord snarled. The other woman was delighted.

"Thank you!" She said, happy she was allowed to come along. She wouldn't really have followed the dragonborn if she didn't have permission, knowing that the dragonborn could take her out easily.

"I'll go say goodbye to some friends. My name is Akavira, by the way. Akavira Blackmane." She grinned, but Soladat didn't see it, too focused into her work, but she did hear the woman, Akavira, walk away. Glad that the nuisance was gone, she could finally work in peace and quiet.

* * *

The redheaded nord walked up to the Cloud District, taking her time, stopping to chat with some familiar faces. She enjoyed being back in Whiterun, having been selling her trade as a mercenary throughout Skyrim. Such seemed to be the most popular job in all of Tamriel, but it was still easy to find work. Anyone that hired mercenaries wanted as many as they could get. That usually meant less pay, though.

She finally arrived where she was heading, standing right in front of the two large doors to Jorrvaskr. Pushing the door open, she stepped in. It was quiet, the only sound was Skjor and Vilkas talking. They both seemed angry, Skjor mentioning some gift, while Vilkas mentioned a curse. The two were too caught up in their bickering to notice the ex-companion walk in, but Ria saw her. With a bright smile, the young woman walked up to her, sure to avoid the arguing two.

"Welcome back, Akavira." Ria greeted her. Akavira smiled right back at her.

"It's good to see you, Ria." She told the dark skinned imperial, "But I'm not staying for long. I've just come across the biggest adventure ever." She grinned widely, already preparing to tell the tale of her encounter with the future hero of Skyrim. She got a feeling from the woman she had demanded to travel with; a feeling that she would be something. She didn't know what that something was, but it was either great, or terrible. Either way, it was something big.

"Let's sit, you can tell me all about it." Ria said as she walked over to the large table that was placed around the fire. It had to be big, of course, to fit all the Companions and everyone they took in. Akavira took a seat right next to Torvar, who was surprised to see her. He hadn't even noticed her walk in. Njada just now noticed her as well, giving her a typical glare from her spot diagonal from her.

"I've convinced the dragonborn to allow me to accompany her throughout her journeys!" Akavira exclaimed, catching Skjor and Vilkas' attention.

"The dragonborn, you say?" Vilkas asked, walking towards her, standing right in front of her, with the fire to his back. He looked genuinely interested, yet also concerned.

"That blind eyed bitch is taking you from us, too?" Skjor growled as he kicked a nearby basket. Everyone in the room knew who he was talking about, except of Akavira.

"You know the dragonborn?" She asked him, ignoring that he called her new leader a bitch. She had never seen Skjor so angry. His eyes were narrowed and his lips curled into a snarl.

"She was a Companion." He told her, "She refused a gift we offered her, then left us in the middle of the night, without a word." Venom covered his tone, showing his pure hate for the woman now called 'dragonborn'.

"She had every right to refuse what you offered her!" Vilkas defended the dragonborn, "It was a curse, not a gift. Do not blame her because she does not think as you do!" He yelled. None of the other Companions present knew what gift, or curse, as Vilkas put it, was offered.

"The dragonborn was a Companion?" Akavira quickly asked, interrupting Skjor before he could yell back a retort. Still angry and red in the face, he stormed off, heading to his quarters and leaving an awkward atmosphere.

"Yes. She was here long before you came along. Joined about seven years ago. Something happened between her and the Circle, and she left a few months ago." Ria answered, watching sadly as Skjor left. Vilkas walked away as well, heading out to the training grounds, to release his anger on the practice dummies.

"What was this 'gift' that Skjor was talking about?" Akavira asked Ria, seeing as neither Torvar nor Njada would answer any of her questions.

"We don't know. Apparently, she was going to be accepted into the Circle, but she turned some kind of offer down and then left about a week later." Ria sighed, looking off to where Vilkas had left. "Anyway," She started, changing the subject, "you're leaving with her to adventure, then?" Akavira nodded as she helped herself to a sweet roll that was sitting in front of her.

"I was talking to one of the maids in Dragon's Reach when she came in, covered in blood and gore. I immediately knew she had just finished a good fight, what with the way she held herself. I wondered around the castle for a while, and heard the Jarl talking to her…" "Eavesdropping, huh?" Ria interrupted, smirking.

"I wasn't eavesdropping, I was just innocently listening in as I wondered around. It's guards fault. They didn't bother to stop the woman loitering in the castle." She told her, rolling her eyes as she did.

"Anyway, I heard the Jarl call her dragonborn. I heard the stories of the dragonborn, who could slay dragons and steal their power. I just knew I had to join her. Who could resist fighting a dragon, of all things?" Seeing that Torvar and Njada had started to listen intently, she smiled once more.

"I ran into her at the Bannered Mare. I convinced her to let me come along. I'm only here to say goodbye. I have to meet with her in about half an hour. With that, I should probably be going. Goodbye. I'll try to stop by next time I'm in Whiterun." With another smile, she stood from the chair, the sweet roll she had been eating was now all gone, vanished to the pits of her stomach. She was glad to have had the sweet while she could, knowing that there was an incredibly small chance to be able to have another while on the road with the dragonborn. She didn't quite know how the dragonborn worked; she might prefer to stay at inns, or camp out in the wild. The decision was up to her, of course.

"It was good to see you again!" Ria yelled after her.

"Come back some other time and we can get some mead together!" Torvar spoke, grinning widely. Though Akavira was now near the door, she could smell the alcohol on his breath from the door. With one last smile at the three, which Ria and Torvar returned, while Njada just rolled her eyes, she walked outside.

* * *

"We should head to High Hrothgar soon, my Thane." Krios said, watching as Soladat checked over the new armor she now adorned, fixing the straps and buckles so it fit perfectly. The new orcish armor was Sovengarde compared to the old Stormcloak armor and the awkward steel armor she had worn. Said armor had since been sold to Adrianne for ten gold each. It wasn't much, but it was better than lugging the blood covered, rusty armor around. She also sold all the loot she acquired from the imperials while she escaped Helgen. It was mostly swords and imperial armor, and sold for nearly two hundred gold, which was good profit. She used it to buy one of Adrianne's weapons, an orcish greatsword, as well as the boots and gauntlets to her new armor. Though she would have preferred to craft it herself, she knew she didn't have time. She only had time to craft the main armor.

"We're waiting on someone, actually." Soladat told him, now satisfied that her armor was well fitted. Krios raised an eyebrow, "You've decided to bring someone else along?" He asked.

"That would be me." The nord male turned, facing a much smaller nord woman. Akavira had returned, exactly one hour after she left, as she said she would. She smiled slightly at him, before turning to face Soladat.

"I've said my goodbyes and am ready to go." She told the taller woman, who nodded. Without another word, the three left the city, leaving through the main doors. As they walked, Soladat informed her new followers of their traveling plan.

"We'll walk to Riverwood, grab something to eat at the inn, and continue on to Ivarstead." She told them, not even looking at them as she spoke.

"Why not spend the night in Riverwood?" Akavira asked, her voice much softer than it had been when she was demanding to come along.

"It won't be dark by then, and it'll just waste time. Once dark comes, we'll make camp wherever we are. The next day, we'll continue on to Ivarstead. We can spend the next night there." Soladat informed as they walked past the farms, officially out of the Whiterun area.

"Sounds like a plan." Krios stated, walking just behind Soladat and alongside Akavira.

There had been no wolves nor other beasts as they walked the path to Riverwood, only the occasional rabbit Soladat slayed to keep for dinner that night, in case they didn't have enough money to stock up on food in the Sleeping Giant Inn. The silence from Whiterun to Riverwood wasn't exactly awkward, but it wasn't comfortable.

The town was finally in sight, but the three felt something amiss. A large group of armed men and women stood in front of the town, their weapons wielded and ready to attack. Sensing trouble, Soladat drew her new greatsword, happy she purchased it, and rushed to the newly found enemies. Krios and Akavira were quick to follow. Krios drew his Skyforge steel sword, already slashing into the enemy archers. Akavira took post further away, drawing her ebony bow and using glass arrows to shoot whatever enemies Soladat and Krios weren't fighting. She had good aim, landing mostly head shots. Soladat admired her skill, having seen one of the arrows fly straight into the head of one of the goons, blood spurting out as the man fell to the ground. Soladat had grinned, but turned from the dead foe to face another that was trying to stab at her with a petty steel dagger. Irritated with him, she raised her sword high above her head, slashing the weapon down onto the enemies head. The warmth of the blood that splattered onto her face was a great feeling, fueling at her adrenaline. She turned to the next fool, whose attention was solely focused on Krios, trying to hit the man with arrows. Seeing the foe was distracted, she pulled her sword, focusing where to strike, and taking pleasure in the cracking sound that followed the blow to the man's neck. He fell to the ground, just like the others had. Watching the man fall, blood pouring out of his neck and onto the ground, Soladat didn't notice the man creeping behind her, two steel daggers in his hands and ready to slit her throat.

She did, however, notice a loud scream, followed by a groan. Curious, knowing that Krios was standing right in front of her, and Akavira was standing off the back, Soladat turned around, coming face to face with a male redguard.

His black was in dreads, falling to his shoulders. A long scar marred his dark skin, falling over a milky white eye, while his other eye was a vibrant bright green. Soladat took notice that he was blinded in one eye, just as she was- though while she was blinded in the right eye, he was blinded in the left. It wasn't an unusual thing for someone to have scars in Skyrim, but she couldn't help but wonder how he got the scar.

He smiled at her, pulling his blade out of the back of the man who could have killed her. She saw what he had done, and nodded her thanks. Krios and Akavira walked over, their weapons still held in their hands, not having noticed the new arrival, an assuming him one of the scum. Soladat shook her head at them when she saw them approach, letting them know he wasn't an enemy.

"Hello." The redguard said, smile unwavering, "It's unusual to see so many mercenaries in this small town."

"So they were mercenaries." Krios stated, looking down and seeing they all wore iron banded armor, "But who hired them?" he asked.

"Loot the bodies. See if you can find anything. If you're going to follow me, you're going to help." Soladat stated, turning from the redguard and kneeling down to the nearest corpse. Akavira and Krios did the same, looking through the pockets and patches that the iron armor had, taking whatever gold they came across. The redguard watched them for a while, before he figured he could help, and he did the same.

Akavira had been searching through one of the mercenaries she had slain, pulling her glass arrow of his head, when she spotted a piece of paper tucked into the chest plate. Pulling it out carefully, so as not to rip it or drop it in the bath of blood, she opened it. After skimming over it quickly, she looked over to Soladat, who was pulling the boots off of one of the bodies.

Having noticed eyes on her, Soladat looked to Akavira, who was sending her a questioning glance.

"It's not weird." She told her, realizing the questioning look was for her taking a dead man's boots off. Akavira sighed, before shaking her head.

"I've found something." She said, holding out the note she had taken.

Standing from the pile of bodies, Soladat walked over to her, not caring if she stepped on the corpses or in their blood. Taking the note from the younger nord, Soladat scanned over it, reading every word.

'_I have hired you to slay a nord by the name of Soladat. I have word she is heading to High Hrothgar. Should you wait near Riverwood, you will surely cross paths with her. Kill her and you can have your pay._

_Finish the job quickly,_

_Aval Atheron'_

"Who is this 'Aval Atheron'?" Akavira asked.

"He's a merchant in Windhelm." The redguard answered her, looking at Soladat as she stared at the page.

"Yes. I may or may not have killed his wife a while ago." Soladat told them all, throwing the letter to the pile of bodies and walking past them, into the town. Her two companions followed her, as did the redguard.

"Why would you kill his wife?" Krios asked.

"I didn't say I did." She answered, once again walking and talking without looking back.

"You didn't say you didn't." The redguard replied, catching her pace to walk next to her, while Akavira and Krios followed shortly behind the two.

The sun was slowly falling from its peak post at noon, and now rested just above the mountains, close to setting behind them. It was maybe seven in the evening, and the three had just started to get hungry. Soladat hadn't eaten since the morning, where she ordered a sweet roll and thing of mead. Needless to say, skipping lunch to craft her armor was taking its toll.

Though Soladat wanted to ask Gerdur if Ralof was alright, if he had returned to Windhelm, her first priority was getting some food.

"Either way, I shall _confront _him of this letter the next time I am in Windhelm. For now, let's get something to eat." She said, managing to avoid the subject. All three followed her into the Sleeping Giant inn, none of them willing to push the subject further.

She looked at the redguard, who was still following her, "Thank you for your help." She told him. She didn't like saying it, but wondered why the man was still here with them.

"You are very welcome. I am Madrick Blackwood, a pleasure to meet you." He introduced himself, smile returning as he looked at the three.

"If it's not a bother, I would like to join you on your travels. My skills may prove useful to you in the future." Soladat held in a sigh. Everybody wants something, but why did this man have to choose to follow her around? She already had two companions, and she didn't really feel like a third. However, he was right. From the little she had seen of his skills, they did seem somewhat remarkable. She could definitely make use of him. If he was weak, he'd be killed off in a fight, and she wouldn't have to deal with him. But if he was as useful as he claimed to be, he would be able to fight without dying, and she could use his skills further.

"If you insist. I admit, what skills of yours I have seen appear to be rather useful." Soladat admitted to the man, now identified as Madrick.

"We are stopping for dinner now. Say your goodbyes, if you must, and get ready to head out in an hour." Having said what she needed to, Soladat left Madrick, walking over to the bartender to order her dinner, Krios and Akavira doing the same.

Madrick nodded at her, before leaving to stock up on supplies, and inform his friends that he was leaving.

As Soladat, Akavira, and Krios ate their meals in peace, enjoying the warmth of the fire, no one noticed when a sneaking khajiit entered the room.

* * *

THANK GOD IT'S OVER!

Anyway, that concludes the second chapter. The OCs that will appear in this story as followers are listed below:

Agaror Duskdale –Wood Elf- (Submitted by king okami)

Akavira Eldermist -nord- (Submitted by Blitzy-chan)

Alain Ancharia -imperial- (Submitted by The OP3RaT0r)

Julius Augustus –imperial- (Submitted by SaundreOfSunday)

Krios Blackmane -nord- (Submitted by ShinBP)

Locked Doors -Argonian- (Submitted by MadnessCouldBeMadder)

Madrick Blackwood -redguard- (Submitted by Death's General)

Milben -Woof Elf- (Submitted by harari24)

Reema The Roamer -Khajiit- (Submitted by LollipopLullabyRedStar)

Varen Grejin -Breton- (Submitted by Xy-Guy)

Some OCs that are not on this list will still appear in the story, just as Quest-givers and minor characters.

Thank you all for your submissions!


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